Sunday, November 30, 2003

On the subject of giving thanks

This past week was Thanksgiving. [The previous announcement was brought to you by the SSO (Society for Stating the Obvious)] As I was returning from Kansas City this evening, I began to really think about all the things I have to be thankful for.

  • My mom and dad celebrated their 40th wedding anniversary this past June. They really take the 'til death do us part thing seriously.
  • Shelly and I celebrated our 13th anniversary this past May. We've had our share of speed bumps but we're doing well.
  • With all of the changes and other shenanigans going on at work, I still really like my job.
  • I have a boss who trusts me and whom I trust.
  • I am not my job.
  • I have learned many lessons about life from many people.
  • I am rich because I have friends - true friends.
  • I get to wake up every morning and see the beauty of nature out my back window.
  • My brother, sister and I get along with each other and we talk now and then.
  • I have a warm bed to sleep in and a roof over my head.


There are many more items I could add to that list and some that are beyond words.

Thanks.

Thanksgiving dinner on 1 hour or less

It was Thanksgiving day. The plan was that I was already supposed to be in Kansas City and Shelly would join me Saturday to go see Shania Twain in concert.

It didn't happen that way.

Earlier in the week, we had tried to find someone to take care of the dogs. Normally, we'd just leave them outside with plenty of water and extra food but Bear is getting old and the weather is getting cold. Shelly was going to stay close to home Thursday and Friday and our good friend Kevin could come in over the weekend.

It didn't happen that way.

I was feeling guilty about being with my folks on the holiday but leaving my family at home. Shelly grew up in a different environment and told me she really didn't mind and knew how important it was to me to see my parents. I didn't make the decision to go until Wednesday night. I went to bed with my mouth watering in anticipation of a big turkey dinner surrounded by my mom, dad, brother, sister, niece and nephews.

It didn't happen that way.

What did happen was that sinusitis made my decision for me. Shelly had started feeling bad Wednesday night and by Thursday morning was on the verge of a cold (that never quite developed). Basically, she felt awful and when it came down to go/no go for KC we had a talk.

Bless he heart because I asked her if she wanted me to stay home with her and she hesitated. From the way she was talking and sniffling, I could tell she was absolutely miserable and didn't really want to be at home by herself. I'd been there myself not a week before and I knew the answer to the question before I asked it but she hesitated. When I asked again, she looked at me and said, "I know you really want to see your parents."

"That's not what I asked," I began. "Would you rather I stay home with you?"

Again, she hesitated, then looked at me with those puffy eyes and nodded. I picked up the phone, let my mom know I wouldn't be there until probably Saturday, and laid down to take a nap.

Later in the afternoon, I was wandering around the kitchen trying to decide what to have for dinner. My lunch had consisted of a peanut butter sandwich (the jelly had crystalized). I needed something of substance and was trying to decide what to make. After turning my nose at some leftovers and deciding a couple of boxed dinners were too complex for my desires at the moment, I came to a realization: It was Thanksgiving and I wanted a turkey dinner.

Thank goodness Wal-Mart is not only open 24 hours but also open on Thanksgiving.

Now, generally, I don't like to support the evil empire that is Wal-Mart unless I can help it but this was desperation.

"I'm off to get dinner." I told Shelly.
"Oh? What's for dinner?"
"Turkey, of course. It's Thanksgiving."
"And, where are you going to get a turkey dinner?" she inquired.
"Wal-Mart."

I hopped in the truck and was on my way. One of the local video stores that is not the evil empire that is Blockbuster but that I hadn't patronized in over ten years was open so I stopped there first. I was going to get Terminator 3 and either Bruce Almighty or Santa Clause 2. [T3 - Quality holiday entertainment!] I grabbed T3 then got distracted. Some noodlehead with a voice that could be heard throughout the store was looking for Emperor's New Groove and didn't care who knew about it. Here's how my thought process went...

Let's see... Bruce Almighty... B... Bruce Almighty... Bruce Almighty... Bruce's New Groove... E... Emperor's New Groove... NO NO NO!!! The line from Star Trek 6 popped into my head: "I'd give real money if he'd just SHUT UP!"

In the end, Bruce Almighty was all checked out so Santa Clause 2 was second on the marquee and it was on to Wal-Mart.

Wal-Mart was easy. I had already filled my shopping cart in my head. I grabbed a pre-cooked, processed turkey breast - the kind you might take to the deli to have sliced for sandwiches. Next, it was gravy. That was a little more difficult since they had obviously given up on stocking the shelves and had decided gravy by the paletteload wias the way to go. Problem was, they put it on the opposite end of the aisle.

I started heading toward the bakery for a... ooh! Stove Top stuffing! Can't have Thanksgiving without stuffing. So then it was off to the bakery for a pumpkin pie.

I zoomed up one side of the shelves... no pies. I zoomed down the other side of the shelves... no pumpkin pies. I toook another pass at the first side... still no pies. I headed back along the other side... wait... there'a a pumpkin pie... but it's almost 5 dollars. The store-brand sweet potato pie is only $2.50. I'll just take that. But I really want pumpkin. I guess if I have to pay $5 for a pumpkin pie, I'll just...

I was completely oblivious to the two shopping carts full of store-brand pumpkin pies that were no more than three feet away.

So... at $2.50 a pop, I bought a sweet potato and a pumpkin pie.

Including the stop at the video store, I was back home in just under an hour. I made the stuffing, sliced and heated the turkey and even warmed up some rolls. It was a good Thanksgiving and I loved spending it with my wife.

Sunday, November 23, 2003

More bumps in the road

I woke up this morning around eight. I couldn't get back to sleep so I decided to go for breakfast. I had located a McDonalds on a map last night so I set out for the land of the McMuffin.

The McDonalds I had pinpointed ended up being underground with just about everything else in Crystal City. It was about a five minute walk but I was beat by the time I got back to the hotel. Shelly and I ate breakfast to the sounds of Headline News then decided to go back to dreamland.

I saw the top of the Washington Monument as we were leaving the airport... that's it so far.

Anyway... back to my story... When last we left our intrepid travelers, they had just landed at Reagan National airport in Washington, DC...

As we deplaned, I made a comment that the gate area looked like something out of Star Wars. That is, something you might see in the Death Star. It was a circular-shaped area with a large newsstand in the center. Above the newsstand was a central fixture as a design focal point. The fixture forms a hemispherical object made of several panels - I think it's a speaker cluster. From the edges, the ceiling rose in an arc, turned down quickly, then flowed smoothly, as if draped, toward the center, finally dropping down as if the fixture were hanging from it. It appeared to have pairs of giant tubes, evenly spaced, running along the arcs. Very sci-fi.

As we walked toward baggage claim, I commented on the apparent age of the facility. I would later discover that the other terminals were more up-to-date.

After collecting our bagage, we headed for the Metro line. The hotel was a mere one stop away. As Shelly stopped to pick up some information, the gentleman at the booth asked where we were heading. He told us that a courtesy shuttle runs every 15 minutes and it would take us directly to the hotel. We decided to take his advice. It was a good thing because we later found out we probably could have walked half the distance from the airport to the hotel just getting to and from the two Metro stops.

Once we placed ourselves at the appropriate location for pickup I took in my surroundings. The front of the airport is... well... interesting. It looks like a government building or, perhaps, one of the monuments. Several windows are efaced with tall, square columns. Accross the top it reads "Washington National Airport" and on either side of that are the eagle with the olive branch and arrows and another official-looking symbol. Very stark and very striking. I decided I wanted a picture. There were some signs in the way and the angle was better from across the street. The opposite sidewalk had a barrier along it so I trotted over and leaned up against it to take the picture.

I didn't see the cop coming until I'd already snapped a couple of shots.

I figured he was going to come over, tell me I shouldn't be leaning on that side of the barrier for my own safety and send me on my way. The conversation wen't something like this:

Officer: Hi there.
Joe: Hello
O: What are you doing?
J: Taking a picture.
O: Of what?
J: The front of the building.
O: Why?

Now, where I grew up, if someone has a badge, meaning he can arrest you, and he carries a gun, meaning he can shoot you, you respect that and answer whatever questions he asks you and you answer them truthfully. Honestly, though, by this time I was a little confused. This was the first time I'd ever been rousted for taking a picture.

J: (I answered haltingly) because I think it's kinda cool.
O: Well, that's alright. Do you have some ID?
- I showed it to him -
O: Tourist?
J: Yes.
O: What brings you to town?
J: My wife has a job interview on Monday.
O: What do you do?
J: I work with the email at Oklahoma State University.
O: Okay.

I presume he could either see the confusion (and a bit of apprehension) on my face or he has had this type of conversation quite a bit. He finished up by appologizing for the inconvenience and explaining that they've been through a lot since 9-11 and anything out of the ordinary makes them a bit nervous. [you may recall that the plane that hit the Pentagon took off from Reagan National]. He thanked me for my cooperation and sent me on my way.

I'd like to take this opportunity to thank him for a job well done. He wasn't rude, he didn't ask anything unreasonable of me, and didn't delay me any longer than necessary. I'd also like to take this opportunity to give some advice - If you want to take a picture of the airport, ask the cop first.

When I got back to the shuttle waiting area, Shelly took the opportunity to say, "I tried to tell you you were about to get in trouble."

Shortly after, it was off to the hotel. The shuttle driver was less than enthusiastic about... breathing, I think. He didn't say anything beyond the required pleasantries and those he uttered with the minimum amount of effort to make them seem sincere. It was a nice, easy ride, though.

To give you an idea where the hotel is, I can see the airport from my hotel room. It's about three blocks away.

Anyway, when we checked in, we were informed that our room had been upgraded. I'm not sure if Marriott did it because Shelly asked about getting reward points and they weren't able to provide them because of the way we booked the room. I'm not sure if the concierge requested it because I had called about getting some flowers delivered to the room (more on that later) and he thought it might be a special occaision. I'm not sure if the Smithsonian requested it just to schmooze a bit. Honestly, I don't care. We ended up with a Jr. Suite. List price is $700.00 a night! Way cool.

Once we got settled we decided to go to the hotel restaurant and have lunch. The restaurant is honestly nothing to write home about, nor is the food, but I have to tell you what I had for lunch. I had a Chesapeake Crab Cake Sandwich. It consists of baked jumbo lump crabmeat served on an onion bun with lettuce, tomato and tartar sauce. As good as it sounds, it was actually rather bland but all I could think was, "I'm having a Krabby Patty for lunch"

I told you it was a very full day and, at the moment, it's getting a little late and I have to pack so we can maximize our efficiency tomorrow. More later and maybe some details of the interview.

Saturday, November 22, 2003

Hang on, it's going to be a bumpy ride...

My day started last night and... well... I wouldn't say it's gotten worse from there but it sure has had some high points, some low points, some terrifying points, some surreal points and some paranoid points.

I finally got to bed last night around 11:30pm. Notice I didn't say I got to SLEEP at that time. Sleep did not come for me until almost one o'clock in the morning.

Wait... let me back up a few days and fill in some important historical detail. You'll recall that my GP diagnosed me with Trigeminal Neuralgia and prescribed medication. It was shortly after taking one of these medications on Wednesday night that I started to feel ill. The room began to get colder and my muscles started to ache from the chill. The thermometer confirmed it, I was sick.

By the time I went to bed Wednesday, my fever had topped out at 101.5, Tylenol wasn't touching it, I had a monster headache, a stuffed-up head, and two layers of clothing and a down comforter were all that were staving off the chills.

Now, you would think that, after a flu shot and a round of anti-viral drugs, I wouldn't get the flu but that sure is what it felt like.

Thursday morning, the doctor said it was a sinus infection and prescribed antibiotics, cough medicine and fluids.

To sum it up, I was suddenly taking even more pills and I felt much worse for it. I had even bruised my ribs and pulled muscles in my back from coughing so much.

To my benefit, I have a boss who cares about me. It may be that he was just tired of doing my work but I know different. Ron called me Thursday evening and offered to bring over this homeopathic blend of apple cider vinegar, garlic, garlic juice, a couple kinds of tree bark extracts and some other herbs I can't remember called Anti-PLG, also known as Anti-Plague. I would link to it because you can apparently purchase it but there does not appear to be a single manufacturer. You can find several recipes on the web to mix your own, including one that instructs you to begin the mixture at the next full moon.

Damned if this stuff didn't kick the ass of whatever it is I have. By late Friday morning the fever had all but broken and my head no longer felt like my brains were going to explode out the top.

By now, my mind has taken circumstantial coincidence and come up with 2+2=5 for substantially large values of two. Because this thing kicked off shortly after taking my latest dose of a new medicine (the anti-convulsant), I stopped taking it in the paranoid and probably irrational thought that it somehow allowed me to get sick... this will become important later.

Now let's get back to where the story began... Sleep did not come for me until almost one o'clock in the morning on Saturday morning. Because of the congestion from the cold/flu/sinus infection, the soreness from coughing and fatigue of clearing up some last minute errands, I could not get comfortable enough to sleep.

Our flight on Saturday is scheduled to leave the Tulsa airport (a little over an hour away) at 6:05am. We have decided to get up at 3am. By 12:30am, I'm getting a little frustrated that sleep will not come.

I realized most of my discomfort was from the sore muscles. I began to wonder where my menthol sports rub might be hiding when I come to a realization: Medicinal chest rubs are menthol-based. I KNOW where the chest rub is. To my delight, slathering my lower rib cage with chest rub relaxes everything enough to get me a couple of hours of sleep.

We made our flight in time... just and I commented to Shelly that the flight was not entirely unpleasant, considering that I had a "sinus infection". It was shortly after making this comment that I realized that the problems usually appear during descent. I had some trouble with a feeling that someone was trying to poke holes in my ears with an ice pick but it was tollerable.

The second leg of the flight was the real problem. I think I got a feel for just how bad Trigeminal Neuralgia can be.

During our descent into Reagan National airport, I got a sudden, searing, burning pain in the space between the top of my left eye and my brow ridge. On a pain scale of 1 to 10, this was a 15. I have never felt anything so sudden, intense or excruciating. I would seriously have gladly dug my left eye out of its socket with my bare hands if I thought it would have helped. I could do nothing to stop it. If I rubbed it, it would abate for about a second, then the rubbing would fuel the fire. The best I could do was hold my hand over my eye and cry, writhing in pain. It lasted less than a minute but it didn't matter. I spent the rest of the descent fearing that it would happen again.

Not knowing enough about the disorder or the nerve itself, I cannot tell you if this was a Trigeminal Neuralgia episode but I imagine it was based on the "most painful afliction known to modern medicine" description.

It's getting late and I'm very tired. You'll understand more why when I explain to you about:
Taking a picture of the airport... the outside of the airport
Getting to the hotel - a lucky break
Checking into the hotel (this was a good point)
Eating a Krabby Patty
Special deliveries
Our trip to Pentagon City shopping center
The power of cheese
What, no crackers?
Camomille tea
Who the hell closes a mall at 6pm?
No soup (supper) for you! - At least, not without a 19% service charge, $2 delivery charge and tip
Late-night hot chocolate

And keep in mind, we didn't land until almost noon.

Monday, November 17, 2003

Life lessons from a pickup truck

For the first time in my life, I own a pickup truck. When I bought my truck, I didn't go half way. I bought a full-size, extended-cab, long-bed Chevrolet pickup with a 290-some horsepower 5.3 liter V8 engine.

Anyone who has ever owned a pickup or even driven one for any length of time will understand what I'm about to say. For the uninitiated, I'll explain.

Most, if not all, pickup trucks are rear wheel drive. By design, all pickup trucks have little or no weight in the back - unless, of course, you're hauling something. This creates some interesting physics issues, especially when it's raining or the streets are otherwise slick.

It was raining this morning as I drove to work and, as I often do, I spun the back tires as I began to move after the light turned green. I have never owned a vehicle with a V8 and this one, as explained above, has a learning curve.

As I continued my drive to work and my efforts to keep my rear wheels moving me forward, I realized a pickup truck could teach us all at least two valuable life lessons.

Even when the street is not slick from water or ice, you can easily spin the tires if you give the engine too much power when starting from a stop. (I did it when I test-drove the truck.) In addition, even if you start without laying some rubber, you have to finesse the truck up to speed before you gun it. If not, you run the risk of spinning the tires again.

So, here is what I learned.

1. Just because you have power, doesn't mean you have to, or even can, use it.

2. When you have power, know when and how to use it effectively.

Friday, November 14, 2003

Do we really hate the French that much?

Here's something I don't get... French dressing. Not fashion styles, I'm talking about salad dressing. Why don't I get French dressing? Because there's at least three different kinds of salad dressing you can call French dressing. There's red French, orange French and Catalina style.

With this identity crisis firmly in place in American society, you never know quite exactly what you're going to get when you order French dressing on your salad. Some people ask - "Is it red French or orange French?"

There is no other salad dressing for which this is necessary!!

Ranch dressing is always white and you never see anyone asking if the thousand island has only 750 islands.

I suppose this confusion is why it is now near impossible to get French dressing on a salad from a restaurant. Either that or the restaurant industry was really pissed about that deck of cards thing.

I'm so confused

It's 3am and I hurt. The once-a-day anti-inflamatory obviously wore off after 12 hours.

I decided to see if I could find information on temporary relief, such as heat or cold, to use while waiting for the Tylenol I took 20 minutes ago to kick in (it still hasn't). Now I'm confused. I wonder if maybe I didn't describe the pain correctly or if maybe this isn't the right diagnosis.

Everything I am reading says TN is an excruciating pain that is often described as like an electric shock. If that's true, someone is holding the electrode against my nerve. I have a constant, intense pain. It doesn't throb and it doesn't feel all wiggly like an electrical impulse.

Of course, I've seen one posting where someone described it as a constant pain - which mine is if some sort of pain reliever or NSAID is not in effect. It seems hard to pin down because one site says "One typical feature of TN is that it is rarely typical. For many TN patients, the condition does not conform to the symptoms of 'classic' TN."

Funny thing is, I wouldn't describe this as facial pain... I'd describe it as jaw pain. It feels like someone has a vice wrapped around my teeth. I originally thought it was sinus pain because during past experiences with sinus infections I often have tooth pain (although not as intense).

I'll have to see how the anti-convulsant works, if at all. The pharmacy was out and I have to go pick it up this afternoon.

Okay - it's 15 minutes later and the single Tylenol hasn't kicked in... time for a second.

Thursday, November 13, 2003

OUCH!!!!

After fighting a couple more days with the pain, I finally went to my family doctor. From what I could feel, I couldn't decide if the tooth was irritating my sinuses or the other way around. After examining me, he surmised the pain was due to Trigeminal Neuralgia. According to the site linked by the words in the previous sentence, TN "is universally considered to be the most painful affliction known to medical practice."

According to another site, TN can be caused by "Physical damage to the nerve caused by dental or surgical procedures, injury to the face or infections." Sounds about right. I think the dentist struck a nerve.

The Dr. has put me on an extended relief anti-inflamatory, an anti-viral agent, and an anti-convulsive. That should do it. I should be able to return to work tomorrow and, hopefully, have some semblance of a normal day.

From what I've seen on the web, TN is rare but it appears to be chronic. I only hope I'm in it for the short-haul due to trauma and my Trgeminal nerve will settle down in short order.

Tuesday, November 11, 2003

Veterans, I salute you!

Let me start by saying thank you to all of those in the military that make it possible for me to live where I live and for me to be able to choose to do what I choose to do, etc.

God, Bless America!

I'd also like to say Happy Birthday to my best bud Bill. What are you now, 50, 60? :-)
(I know you'll get me back somehow)

While we're handing out Kudos, I'd like to take this opportunity to tell everyone I can think of what they really mean to me...

Dad - You're awesome. I can't imagine growing up without your guidance and your love. The Colorado trip was unforgettable.

Mom - You're the tops. I know you kept this family going while we were growing up and you still do. I don't know how you manage but I'm glad you do. I can only hope to come close to following your example.

Bill - You've been with me through so much. I glad to know you're there even if I don't always show it.

Steve Raulie - Dude, you're a rock. Dependable to the core. I hope I can someday repay all that you've given me.

Estee - I've always fared better and walked a straighter line with someone looking after me. Thank you for all of the prayers. God bless you.

Eric - We click on so many levels and yet we're very different. The funny thing is I know we could be seperated for years and it would be like we just saw each other yesterday when our paths meet again. Your friendship means a lot to me.

Dan - I've already told you this but I respect you. I respect you a lot. You have so much to teach and I have so much to learn. Thank you for your wisdom and your willingness to lead.

Ron - I am humbled that you consider me your right-hand man. It means a lot to mean that much to someone. I'd walk through fire for you and follow you to the ends of the Earth.

Mary - Thanks for being a big sister and watching out for me.

To all of you on which I can depend, especially my family, remember there is nothing that together we cannot face.

The drill of dental work, the agony of the teeth

Oh, thank God! Just as I started typing this, the hydrocodone started kicking in. My tooth is feeling much better already... But you'll forgive me if I go astray.

On Thursday I had a temporary crown put on one of my molars. While he was working, the dentist told me he was very close to the nerve and I may have trouble with it.

Friday morning, I was in his office asking if the pain was normal. He wasn't in yet so I discussed it with him about an hour later when he called me. We decided it could be post-procedure irritation. He called in a couple of prescriptions and told me to keep an eye on it. I was taking two Tylenol about every 3 hours.

Saturday came and the three hours stretched into 6-8 hours. Things were getting better. Maybe it was just irritation.

By Sunday evening, I filled the prescriptions. I started taking the antibiotic and the hydrocodone. At 4am Monday, I decided I wasn't going to make it into work. At 8am Monday, I called his office and set an appointment for the afternoon. I hung up the phone, took another antibiotic and painkiller, then went to sleep.

Just before my appointment, I took regular Tylenol and another antibiotic and had lunch. The Dr. tapped and prodded the tooth a bit but, since I didn't jump out of the chair using my butt muscles, he didn't do anything at that point.

He told me to stop taking the antibiotic. Sensing my confusion, he explained, with the help of some handy dental graphics, that the antibiotic would clear up the infection at the base (prongs) of the tooth, giving relief, but wouldn't be able to reach the source of the problem.

Unfortunately, my 2am pain is speaking two words to me... Root canal.

ouch.

Monday, November 10, 2003

Can you believe it!?

I was reading the October 24 issue of Entertainment Weekly and found something interesting in a sidebar titled “Curses!” It said “On Oct. 3, the FCC had ruled that U2’s Bono didn’t violate federal indecency standards when he blurted ‘f---ing brilliant’ during the live NBC broadcast of January’s Golden Globes…”

How on earth do you get away with that!!??

Well, apparently, the F-word really is quite versatile* because the FCC said Bono wasn’t describing “sexual or excretory organs or activities.”

[*CAUTION: the link above contains explicit language]

Based on that ruling, I’ve made the following table – as a public service – to show you some of the phrases you may now begin hearing on television.

















Stuff you might hear Stuff you won't hear
I don't f---ing believe it. F--- you!
That was f---ing stupid So, you wanna f---?
  Go f--- yourself


The phrase “f--- this“ would probably still be open to interpretation.

Sunday, November 09, 2003

Of all the things I've lost, I miss my mind the most.

I began thinking the other day, a proposition dangerous in and of itself, about things that used to be. At one point I wrote about things that didn’t used to be, like the compact disc player and the IBM PC, and I started thinking of all of those things that I grew up with that no longer exist… here is a list of some of those.

The first thing that came to mind was Styrofoam fast food containers. Whenever you went to your local burger joint, the hamburger came to you in a Styrofoam container similar to those you currently receive as a to-go box at a sit-down restaurant. The irony of that last statement is that the burger containers were done away with for ecological reasons. The containers were filling up landfills (we called ‘em trash dumps when I was growing up) and someone figured out they take hundreds of years to decompose. Under public pressure, the major chains eventually started using more Earth-friendly materials.

Why I miss them: Styrofoam burger containers are the perfect container in which to dump an order of French fries with ketchup on the side. It was the ideal serving container. Your burger rested comfortably in the bottom portion and, once the container was opened, the fries could be contained in the top portion. The beauty of the container was that you could put your ketchup in a corner of the container and the foam wouldn’t absorb any of it. You could savor every drop that came out of the little packet (that you didn’t even have to ask for – they just gave it to you).

Speaking of French fries, I really miss the fries that McDonald’s used to make. These were the pinnacle of French fries: Always golden brown, always crispy and always salted. According to some sources their crispiness was achieved by soaking the potatoes in a sugar water solution prior to freezing them for shipment to the restaurants. Of course, the increase in health consciousness got rid of the sugar and the salt – but left the fat from frying, go fig.

Side note while we’re on the subject of French fries: Why is it that when you ask for ketchup and salt you get ten packages of salt and two packages of ketchup for super-size fries?

Next on the list is trading card bubble gum. Back in the day when trading cards were just that – not part of a game – you used to get a plank of bubble gum with every pack of cards. The gum was about as thick as a standard piece of chewing gum, about twice as wide, and about a third longer. This stuff was specially formulated, or aged, perhaps, so that it wouldn’t melt, soften or bend during shipment. It was pink, like bubble gum should be, but was coated in a powdery substance, that we always assumed was sugar, that kept it dry which kept it from sticking to the cards. I don’t know how, or why, we ever chewed this stuff but it was pretty much the second most exciting part of getting a pack of trading cards – the first was finding a rare card.

I also remember soda can pull tabs. These things were a lawsuit waiting to happen. These days, you pop the tab and it pushes a section of the top into the can. The whole thing stays intact. Back in the day, pulling the tab released the pressure by creating a small opening at the apex of a teardrop-shaped section of the top. In order to open the can, you had to pull the ring and physically separate the teardrop-shaped tab from the can. The drawbacks? First, the tabs were sharp – not a good thing in the hands of a child. What ultimately took them off the market were the beer-swilling idiots who would pop the top then drop it into the can prior to consuming the liquid. Often enough, these Darwin award candidates would swallow the tab and choke to death.

While we’re talking about beer, does anyone remember Billy beer? Somehow Billy Carter, the brother of former President Jimmy Carter, started marketing his own brand of beer. The only reason anyone paid attention was because he was the brother of the President. From what I understand, the beer wasn’t that good and the only people who supported Billy’s efforts were beer can collectors, who knew billy beer was just a flash in the pan, and those that couldn’t afford cheap beer.

The idea of cheap beer leads me into thinking about generic products. Generic products were like off-brand or store-brand products in that they were less expensive but they went far beyond that. From beer to cigarettes to canned goods, generic products were labeled with white labels with nothing more than the product name (i.e. “beer” or “green beans”) and a UPC symbol.

Here’s the rest of the list:

Audio pagers - These little gems work on the same principle as modern pagers. A radio signal reaches them and they beep. Of course, this was before the advent of LCD technology (odd that I’m talking about this while working on a laptop… which uses an LCD for the display). Instead of displaying a number or text message (there was nothing on which to display a number or message), the caller would talk and the audio message would be transmitted to the pager. This could be disconcerting, especially if you’re concentrating intensely on something when they go off.

Let me set the scene for you. It’s Halloween. I’m home by myself. Unbeknownst to me, my mother has left her pager on the charging stand with the power on. I found a horror movie on cable and decided to really get into it by turning out all of the lights and moving a chair in direct line with the television. I’m about an hour and a half into the movie (Halloween, I think it was) – right as a major plot point is occurring. The killer is on the loose, several people have already died, the phones are out of order, the lights have been smashed except for one or two that cling to life giving off flickers and sparks. I lean forward in my chair, inching forward, caught up in the intensity of the movie.

Have you ever seen that cartoon where the mouse sneaks up behind the cat, blows up a paper bag and pops it? Do you remember what happens to the cat?

I lean forward in my chair, inching forward, caught up in the intensity of the movie...

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

I became the cat.

I finally relaxed enough to come off the ceiling when the voice came over the pager asking my mother to call the lab… It was a good thing I had just gone to the bathroom.

Penny candy – That’s right, kids. You could buy candy for a penny a piece. Mostly it was bubble gum, usually out of a gumball machine but sometimes from the counter in bulk but they were a penny each. This, to a child, was the reason pennies were made. The value of a dollar was 100 pieces of gum.

Dick & Jane books – For millions of American children, this is how we learned to read. They were simple stories of Dick, Jane and their dog, Spot. See Dick. See Jane. See Dick and Jane. See Spot. See Spot chew on Dick’s shoe… Bad Spot. No biscuit.

Tab – These days you have diet Pepsi, diet Coke, diet Dr. Pepper, diet Sprite, diet root beer, and even diet Shasta. Before all of these choices you had… Tab. Tab was it. If you wanted a sugar free cola, you drank Tab. And God saw that it was Tab and said that it was Tab and it was AWFUL!

On the flip side, there was Jolt cola. In the early/mid eighties, before the health nuts decided that caffeine and sugar were really bad things, someone came up with a cola for the college student in all of us. Jolt cola was advertised as having all of the sugar and twice the caffeine as regular cola. A six-pack of this stuff could give a comatose person the jitters. [side note: while putting together the links for this entry I discovered Jolt is still around.]

Stretch ArmstrongStretch Armstrong was a… I hesitate to say doll… he was a toy that looked like a bodybuilder. The hook was that he was made of rubber and filled with some sort of gel and he stretched. He stretched a long way. He would eventually, as many a young male child discovered, break.

Tonka trucks made of metal – Yes, you heard me right, Tonka trucks used to be made of metal. Good, old-fashioned, American sheet metal. There were no safety concerns that caused the change to heavy plastic. It was a simple decision of economics. I used to have a very large Tonka dump truck that I used to ride down our driveway. I eventually sold it in a garage sale and either some kid is still playing with it or it’s been added to a collection.

8-track tapes – Thank God these are extinct. Although, 8-tracks are responsible for auto-reverse technology in cassette decks. The width of the tape was divided into four sections of two tracks (left and right) each. Each alternating section was recorded in reverse of the previous. You could change sections but there was no fast-forward or rewind.

Finally, there’s canned motor oil. Oil didn’t always come packaged in a convenient, re-sealable, easy-pour plastic bottle. It used to be packaged in a round can made of coated paper with a metal top and base. You could use a standard can opener – the pointy kind that punches a hole, not the kind that cuts the top off - (which is becoming an extinct product in and of itself) but that tended to be very messy when trying to pour. To make it easier to pour, you could buy an oil spout. These were metal spouts, about 6-8 inches long, that had a pointy bit on the back end that you would slam into the top of the can to open it.

Trust me, the plastic ones are much easier.

I hope you’ve enjoyed this trip down memory lane, or history lesson depending on your perspective. Stay tuned because you never know when another bizarre idea will hit me.

Saturday, November 01, 2003

It's been one week since you looked at me

Okay, so I'm still on the musical theme.

[Side note: Those of you playing at home will notice that certain entries will start to fill in between this one and the entry from 10 days ago. I wrote all of the fishing trip entries while in Colorado and I'm posting them with altered dates and times to make it look like I posted them when I wrote them.]

Today is the last day of the first week of work after spending a week not working.
"...love a wealthy woman and the pretty plane she flies. If you think this sounds confusing you should see it through my eyes." -- Jimmy Buffett

Today is also Halloween --- BOO!!

The week went alright but I'm drowning in trouble tickets. I have one ticket I can knock out in about five minutes but it arrived late in the day while I was already involved in something else. I have two or three that await a response from the caller. The other five or so are waiting for someone else to do something. I was promised that I would be taken care of today but it didn't happen.

I don't blame the people that I need help from. They're GREAT people!! My relationship with them is pretty much "ask and ye shall receive." The problem is that their supervisors and directors have them so tied up with so many facets of so many projects that they have no time to do their work. I actually got a response from one of them a couple of weeks ago that was time-stamped MIDNIGHT!! That's just wrong - these guys have families.

I was assured that the biggest part of the biggest project is over and they'll have more time to devote to the day-to-day operations. I certainly hope so or we're going to have some pretty pissed-off clients... some of them are there already.

====================================

The weather is starting to cool off a bit here in Oklahoma. My asthma is starting to remind me that it's there (it's aggravated by cold --- and priming without a mask last summer wasn't helpful, either) but I think I may have the beginnings of bronchitis. I've been getting into some heavy coughing fits and that whole tight chest thing.

Geez, I feel like a little old man that can't help but complain about everything.

[read the following with a raspy old man voice playing in your head]
Oy, I tell ya, I hate the cold. My asthma is starting to bother me - it's so hard to breathe.
And work! Don' get me started about work! I start out da day with ten tings on my list, get them all done, and finish the day with eleven. It never ends. ... Dat place is gonna be da death of me.

My goodness, when did I turn jewish!!??

For those of you in the studio audience, it's late and our host is beginning to ramble. Let's see if we can give him the universal hang signal for "Where the hell are you going with this? Can we get back on track, here? The sponsors are starting to call."

Where was I? Oh, yeah, the weather is starting to get colder. Despite my little-old-jewish-man tirade up there, I like the cold. First of all, I sweat... A LOT. The cold is my time to be unsweaty.

[blech! Can you believe he's talking about that? Move on!]

SUBJECT CHANGE!!!!!

I came home from my fishing trip to find the lot between our house and our neighbor had been leveled. The grass I used to mow to keep the lot looking presentable was now a smoothed out section of dirt. According to my wife, this happened last Saturday. Both of us figured they were going to list the lot with the promise of a custom home. With the weather turning colder and precipitation chances (do you like how I worked that in there?) increasing, we figured they wouldn't be able to pour the concrete, etc.

When we came home from work on Monday night, we discovered we had it wrong. On the lot there was a roughly house-shaped trench dug about 3-feet down into the lot and it had re-bar standing in it. Oh, so... I guess they are building a house. Today, they poured concrete into the trench. I had this irresistable urge to sign my name in the obviously still-wet cement... but I didn't.

I'll keep you posted on the progress.

Upcoming events include the Bedlam football game (between OKLAHOMA STATE UNIVERSITY!! and the university of oklahoma) tomorrow at 2:30pm, a salute to Rogers and Hamerstein by the Lyric Theater Saturday night, and having a crown put on one of my teeth (that starts Thursday).

Be sure to join our intrepid (what does that mean, anyway?) hero next time... same BAT time, same BAT channel!